


I Am Your Quartermaster

by Rehfan



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types, James Bond - Ian Fleming
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, French Kissing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Male Slash, Nipple Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-23 16:45:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehfan/pseuds/Rehfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec Trevelyan, 006, has trouble turning in equipment intact.</p><p>Q decides he's going to put his foot down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a-proper-bastard.tumblr.com](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=a-proper-bastard.tumblr.com).



Q turned to one of his subordinates in Q Branch and said, “Have 006 turn in his property to me personally as soon as he makes it back to MI6.” And with a turn he stalked off to his office.

The subordinate followed asking, “But sir, isn’t that a bit irregular?”

Q turned on the assistant so fast, the man jumped back a half-pace. “It is not when he and Bond are the only two double-ohs to consistently ruin our equipment and think it’s all alright just because they flash a charming smile at the property handlers and those idiots in turn go all weak in the knees.” He pulled his knitted vest down tightly in his annoyance. “It’s unprofessional, embarrassing, and it will not happen with me. They wouldn’t dare.”

The assistant scurried off to let medical know that 006 was expected in Q’s office within an hour of checking in. 006 arrived three hours later than that and deposited what used to be a very nice laptop on Q’s desk. He sat on the desk’s edge and watched Q’s reaction with a bemused grin. Q released an annoyed breath out his nose and looked up over his glasses and through his fringe at Alec Trevelyan, former Russian, now British agent in Her Majesty’s Secret Service. “And what sort of a time do you call this?” asked Q.

“I came as soon as I heard you wanted me,” said Alec, flashing a smile.

“Liar,” said Q as he inspected what used to be the laptop keyboard with the tip of a pen. “And what happened to this?”

“Well, Q-“ began Alec.

Q held up a hand. “Have you filed your After Action Report yet?”

“Well, no… but-“ said Alec, once again cut off by Q’s outstretched hand.

Q rose from his chair and circled the desk. Alec got to his feet by way of reflex and stood facing his superior. Q’s eyes were aflame but his voice was soft, deadly. “I want you to provide me with a detailed description of exactly what happened to this piece of equipment that was left in your care, 006. I want each and every letter from that keyboard accounted for. And then I am going to take from your pay the exact amount that that laptop cost this department. And you will never, ever, let this casually happen again. Am I clear, 006?”

“Yes, sir,” responded Alec. He had never seen Q so upset. It was somehow immensely threatening and yet the most adorable thing Alec had ever seen.

“And you will be filing your AAR right now, won’t you, 006?” said Q. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, sir,” said Alec. There was a pause during which Alec could see Q shaking with rage. He nearly kicked himself for doing it, but the murderous look in Q’s eyes caused him to swallow hard and ask: “May I be excused now, sir?”

Q’s glare lasted a few more seconds before he quietly replied: “You may.” Alec left his office without a word and headed to the nearest workstation to file his AAR – in great detail.


	2. Chapter 2

“Alec Trevelyan!” shouted Q. He held the remnants of a very expensive mobile phone in his hands as he chased after 006’s retreating figure. 006 stopped in his tracks and didn’t turn around. “Don’t you dare tell me that this stopped a bullet like you did with the laptop! What in hell makes you think that turning this in to me in this state is somehow acceptable? And just dumping it on my desk while I wasn’t there and leaving without any explanation or AAR to go along with it? What the hell are you playing at, 006?”

Alec half turned to his right to face Q. “Q, I’m sorry-“ he began but hung his head slightly as Q began another tirade.

“Sorry?!” said Q incredulously. “Sorry doesn’t even begin to cover the expense and care that went into creating this mobile. Its programming was unique to your mission! It’ll take R&D weeks to pull what data they can and repair it! How could you have been so careless? What happened to it to reduce it to its component parts like this?”

Alec turned to face Q fully. The left side of his face, which had been hidden to Q up until that moment, was a riot of purple and red, black and blue. His lip was swollen and cut, his eye a mere slit. “They found it on me and beat the shit out of me with it. That’s what happened.”

“Christ,” whispered Q. He placed the broken communicator on the nearest desk and stepped closer to Alec, reflexively reaching for his hands. His eyes widened as he inspected Alec’s mottled face. A wave of concern and sympathy washed over his features before he reined them in under a controlled mask. He cleared his throat. “Have you been to medical?” he asked.

“Just came,” said Alec. “Nothing’s broken. And don’t worry. I killed them all.” He winced as Q’s thumb rubbed across his wrists.

Q looked down at what he had done. “Ligature marks,” he said.

“They had me tied to a wooden pole,” said Alec inspecting his wrists as well. “Medical had to remove about twenty splinters from my arse alone. That wasn’t humiliating.” He looked at Q. “Do you want your AAR before I head home, Quartermaster?”

“N-no,” said Q. He was visibly shaken by the damage Alec had sustained. It hurt his heart to look at him. He let his hands drop and turned to pick up the components from the desk. Without looking back he added: “Have it ready for me by tomorrow afternoon. I’ll be expecting it by three. Go home. Rest. Take care of yourself, Trevelyan.”

“Yes, sir,” said Alec and he turned and walked through Q Branch in silence.


	3. Chapter 3

A month later, an almost pristine Walther was placed down on Q’s desk beside his tea beaker. The clip was placed reverently beside it along with a laptop, scuffed but not damaged, and a corresponding AAR. Q looked away from his terminal at the first noise of the gun’s placement but didn’t raise his eyes to the agent until the AAR was set down. Q’s breath caught as he looked at Alec; the man seemed intact physically, but was clearly emotionally spent. His eyes were haunted and painfully sad. “Thank you, 006,” said Q.

“The barrel of the weapon has a scratch. Deflected a knife. It’s in the report,” said Alec and he turned slowly to leave. He was eerily subdued.

“I see,” said Q. He really never knew quite what to say when the agents came back like this. He usually said something completely clinical and uncaring. This encounter was no exception. “Have you been to Psych for an eval?” he asked.

Alec turned on Q as though the man had insulted his mother. “You must be joking,” he said. “The last thing I need is my head shrunk. You’ve got your precious equipment back, Quartermaster, sir. None too worse for wear, I’d say, considering what I went through- now kindly _piss off_.” He turned, opening the door.

Q knew he couldn’t let Alec leave his office that way. He thought quickly. “That reminds me, 006: why did you go off-mission?” asked Q. “It was bloody reckless of you. Had you not, I have no doubt that the Walther would be in pristine condition and you wouldn’t have half as much explaining to do in your AAR.”

Alec stopped and looked back at Q with murder in his eyes. For his part, Q didn’t say another word. He was terrible with people in general. He was even worse when those people needed a bit of understanding; he simply wasn’t very well-equipped. He had blundered terribly and knew it.

“Do you know what bothers me the most about that last mission?” asked Alec, not expecting an answer. “It wasn’t the beating they gave the other prisoners. It wasn’t the violent and medieval acts of torture and death. No…it was the children they employed. Those kids will never be right again. Not really. And will our government take in those children now that the terrorist regime has collapsed and they have nowhere to go? No. Never. I can see the headlines now: Mother England Abandons Children. But no one will ever hear about them, will they?” Alec closed the door and walked to Q’s desk. “The thing is, these kids… they’ll grow up to hate England because of this. And then someday one of them will cross a line and another Double-Oh will be sent to kill them.” Alec shook his head. “It never fucking ends.”

Q rose to his feet and circled his desk. He placed a cool hand against Alec’s shoulder. When he spoke, his voice sounded as hollow as he felt: “We do what we are ordered to do, 006. No more, no less. It is a sworn duty and we are here to pull the triggers that need to be pulled.”

Alec looked at Q’s hand on him and then to Q. He grabbed the quartermaster at his shoulders and shook him slightly in his anger. “You just don’t get it, do you?” he asked. “I stood there, my finger on the trigger of the explosives I set, ready to blow the whole building to hell, and there was this little girl. She couldn’t have been any more than three. She stared at me off the balcony of the estate house. She waved to me.” Tears welled in Alec’s eyes but he never let them fall. He gripped Q’s shoulders tighter and Q winced, but didn’t stop him from talking. “She waved to me and ran from the balcony. I changed the plan. I couldn’t blow the building. I went in and killed all the targets one by one.” Alec placed his hands around the base of Q’s skull and brought his mouth close to his ear. Whispering, he said: “Knowing what I know now, how those kids will never be normal, never be sane… I know that I should have pressed the trigger. _I should have killed them all_.” He pulled his face back to look into Q’s eyes. “File that in your fucking AAR.”

Tears welled in Q’s eyes. Gingerly, Q reached up and cupped Alec’s face. “I’m so sorry,” was all he could say but it seemed to be enough.

“Yeah,” said Alec and slowly, exhaustedly, leaned in, placing a soft kiss on Q’s lips. Sadness was shared through that contact and it fell over both of them like a shroud as it deepened.

As soon as it was over Alec released Q and left Q Branch without another word.

 

~080~

 

Alec Trevelyan’s flat door came violently open to reveal Q standing on the agent’s doorstep. “What do you want?” asked Alec.

“I wanted to give you the night to think about it,” said Q.

“To think about what?” asked Alec. “The kiss?”

Q shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable. “May I come in?” Alec held the door open and stepped aside.

The flat was a bachelor’s dream come true: empty beer cans strewn about, old newspapers draped over over-stuffed furniture, and a foosball table covered in old mail in the corner - all the comforts of home. “What was I supposed to think about? And why couldn’t this have waited until I got in today?” asked Alec.

“That’s just it,” said Q, as he stood in the center of the sitting room. He had decided that unburying the sofa from all the detritus of Alec’s existence just so he could sit down was too much effort to make for seven o’clock in the morning. Alec must have thought likewise because he didn’t offer to shift anything either. “I wanted you to think about visiting Psych before you came in today.”

Alec burst into laughter. “You- you still want me to go to Psych?” he asked. “I don’t fucking need Psych.” He walked over to the kitchen counter and filled a glass with vodka. The bottle was half full.

“Drinking?” asked Q. “At seven in the morning? Bit much, don’t you think?”

Alec turned to him, glass in one hand, bottle in the other. “You act as though I haven’t been drinking since I left work yesterday.”

“Have you?” asked Q.

Alec grinned. “да,” he said in the Russian affirmative.

“Have you slept at all?” asked Q.

“Нет,” Alec answered.

Q shook his head. All booze and no sleep; this was not a good combination. And their current impasse wasn’t going to get anyone anywhere. Q knew that M was getting another mission ready for the agent, but if Q didn’t do something about Alec’s psychological state, he’d blow it and then some. A piece of Q’s heart broke as he saw Alec take a long drink. “How can I help you?” he asked. His voice was soft and Q wished half-heartedly that Alec hadn’t heard him. But the Russian did.

“You want to help me?” asked Alec. “Why? So you can send me off to kill children?”

“Alec, honestly! You know that’s not what- ” began Q in protest.

“Wait!” Alec interjected. He came closer to Q, his finger pointing at him. “You just called me Alec.”

Q blinked. “Y-yes, I suppose I did.”

“You never call me Alec.”

“I know.”

“Why did you call me Alec just now?”

“I don’t know,” said Q. “I suppose I want to help you on a… on a more personal level.”

Alec stood upright and stared at Q with a surprisingly sober regard. “Christ. You _care_ ,” he said.

Q cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses nervously. “And why wouldn’t I care?”

“Because you’re Q,” said Alec. He turned and placed the bottle and glass back on the counter. “And how do you propose to help me, Q?”

“In any way I can,” said Q.

“No,” said Alec, correcting him. “In what way do you think you can help me?”

Q took a moment to study Alec Trevelyan: they were an inch apart in height, if that. The man’s shoulders were broad, his body muscular. His face was weathered and careworn but his green eyes held fire. Blond locks fell into his face but he wasn’t scruffy. He was actually quite perfect. And as far as Q’s hormones were concerned: completely fuckable.

Their kiss yesterday seemed to offer some comfort to the man. It couldn’t hurt to try and duplicate the procedure, could it? After all, an experiment repeated that garners the same results is a hypothesis proven, right? Q walked to Alec and kissed him soundly, wrapping his arms around his neck. Alec was shocked at first, but responded quickly, licking and nibbling at Q’s lips hungrily.

As the kiss broke, Q gazed upon a relaxed Alec and smiled. “What?” asked Alec. “What are you grinning at?”

“An agent on the road to recovery,” said Q, proudly. He leaned in for another kiss but Alec pulled back.

“You’re doing this so I’ll be field-ready,” he said.

“Well… of course,” said Q. “I thought you’d understood that.”

Alec dropped his arms and said: “Get out.”

“What?” asked Q.

“You heard me,” said Alec. He went to the door and held it open. “Goodbye, Q.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” asked Q. “Don’t you want to get back to work?”

“I will be in at nine,” said Alec.

“Are you really giving me no choice, 006?” asked Q.

“What are you talking about now? What choice?” asked Alec.

“I am your Quartermaster, 006,” said Q. “I am your superior. I can have you suspended pending a Psych eval.”

“What are you saying?” asked Alec. “If I don’t sleep with you, you’ll have me suspended? Isn’t that illegal?”

Q shook his head. “I want you field-ready any way you can get field-ready. I was simply giving you the option of using me. If that’s not to your liking, then by all means, seek other avenues. But if you walk into MI6 without some kind of emotional release, I’ll be forced to pull you.”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” asked Alec. “I don’t want you to do this for MI bloody 6! I want you to help me because you want to help _me_ , you pillock!” He pushed Q out into the corridor. “You know what? Suspend me. I don’t care. Fucking write whatever report you must to get me off-duty. I don’t fucking care anymore. You can go to hell, you goddamned _machine_.” He slammed the door in Q’s face.


	4. Chapter 4

Q thought about Alec’s final words to him for three days. The word “machine” rolled around in his dreams and permeated every nuance of his existence. He hadn’t tried to be insensitive; in fact, he thought he was being quite giving and very caring. But with three days to think about it, he could only come to one conclusion: Alec had cared for him too. But that couldn’t be right. Alec had given him no indication that he was interested in him personally. It would be unthinkable for him to.

But why? Why would it be so unthinkable?

Q wasn’t the sort of person to advertise his sexuality; he never flirted – at the office or otherwise. He saw flirting taking place in subtle ways all over MI6: from Q Branch all the way up. He found it unprofessional and slightly repellant. He also noted that no one had flirted with him. But then, he wasn’t looking for anyone to. Work was work and it was to be done efficiently and effectively and that was that. Dear God, he was a machine…

So if Alec were interested, he would have flirted with him. Were there ways that Alec was flirting with him that he had missed? It’s entirely possible. Q never realized that all the winks and smirks that were thrown his way could have meant more than just a quick way of making Q annoyed. There was also the way Alec would casually sit on the corner of Q’s desk, emphasizing his well-turned rear end and strong back, as though he were putting himself on display for Q. But that was just his arrogance on display, wasn’t it? There were also the small double-entendres during logistical tactical assistance that had caused Q to slap him down verbally as being unprofessional. Good Lord, could he have been that obvious?

And perhaps Q had responded to him, albeit subconsciously. The returning of equipment could have easily been handled by an inferior, but Q chose to take it upon himself to deal with him. Why did he do that? For more contact with the agent? To take a chance to flex his own proverbial muscle around the office and pull rank on a man who could easily physically dominate him? To prove to him that he could give as good as he got? Wasn’t that flirting? Wasn’t that part of the mating dance?

And then there was the mobile he returned. Q thought at the time that it was an act of cowardice when he returned the phone without a word to him, but could it have been that Alec was trying to keep the extent of his injuries from his knowledge? He certainly didn’t want to face him right away. Q had been shocked by the severity of them. Was that what he was trying to avoid?

And then there was the last mission. Returning everything in virtual silence, all his ducks in a row, AAR filled out, and he stood there waiting – no, hoping – that Q would see the pain behind his eyes and offer… what? Comfort? Succor? A safe place to lay his head? Fundamental human understanding?

Q sat in his office, door closed, and pondered all these things for three whole days. His massive intellect was practically useless with the facts and figures of people, but light was beginning to dawn. Alec needed a safe place to come home to that was more than four walls and a bottle of vodka. He needed to be able to unload on someone and have them take it all in and still not hate him for the things that kept him awake at night. He needed healing and he was looking to his quartermaster for help.

Q’s kneejerk reaction was to say that he wasn’t qualified to deal with a psychologically damaged agent and that he should still go to Psych. And by all rights, Alec probably should – if only for his mental health. But all the talking in the world wouldn’t heal the man’s soul. How do you justify wanting to kill children because the government that you work for won’t care for them so they may as well be dead now? How do you recover from the fact that if you took the life of a living, breathing child who could look at you and ask you “why?” that it would be for the best? Where do you go to hide from that part of yourself that feels it would have been better to wipe a small life off the face of the earth because of the life it would likely lead in the future? Who could love anyone who thought these things? Who could love anyone who could _actually do_ these things?

It took Q three days to realize that Alec had been looking to him.

Three days was also Alec’s breaking point. “Do you want me to burn all of London down, or are you going to take me off suspension?” he asked as he burst into Q’s office.

“With an attitude like that, I’ll have Medical sedate you,” said Q. “Are you prepared to see Psych?”

Alec glared angrily for a moment. Disgusted and defeated, he said: “Is the other option still open?”

Three days had given Q some perspective. He rose from his desk and went around to face Alec. He held his arms open and Alec wrapped his arms around Q’s torso. For moments that seemed like years, the two men just held one another. Finally Q broke the silence: “I’ve had time to think about what you said to me-“

“Q, I-“ said Alec.

“Shh… no. My turn to talk,” said Q. He raised a hand to card through the agent’s hair soothingly as he spoke. “I realize that when it comes to people I’m at a huge loss. I really have never been good with them. I knew from an early age that I would either go into tech or the mortuary business because people were just so confoundedly complex. And being around all these machines everyday for a lifetime so far has pretty much rendered me just as mechanical. You weren’t wrong when you called me a machine.”

Alec pulled back to look at Q. He didn’t say a word as Q continued: “I think about things in a very mechanical way: communications, computers, weapons, AAR’s, agents – all are cogs in the MI6 wheelhouse. They are tools to be used and utilized. They don’t get to be human.

“But the truth is, you are human. And I forget that, you see. I’m so busy being your quartermaster that I forget what it is to be a true quartermaster. By definition, a quartermaster is a supplier, but on a broader scale, he is a provider. Food, clothing, equipment, weaponry: these are things I can physically give you in order for you to complete a mission and come home safely. That’s the easy bit.

“The other day you came to me for something else and I’m ashamed to say that I missed it. I missed the signals for help.” Here Q paused and looked pained. “I’m sorry, Alec. I fell short of the mark.”

‘Q…” said Alec. “I know you were suggesting Psych because it’s what you’re supposed to do, but I’ve been in this game long enough to know that I need more than just a sit-down with some posh git in a suit.”

Q nodded. “I know that now.”

“I’m not broken,” said Alec, “just struggling.”

“I can see that,” said Q. “And I wish I knew how to help you. I mean… Do you have any idea what it’s like to see someone who is supposed to be so bloody invincible slowly crumble before your eyes? It’s heartbreaking. And not just because I’m your god damned Quartermaster, but because over the years I’ve worked with you, alongside you, you’ve become important to me.” He broke eye contact long enough to admit quietly: “I don’t know how I’ll feel if I ever bear witness to your death.”

Alec leaned in and kissed Q slowly. Once again it was a kiss given in comfort because of profound sadness and somewhere in Q’s heart he wished that they could kiss from joy. They clung to each other and deepened their contact, fisting at clothing and pressing in with tongues, but never rushing; the kiss was practically languid.

There was a knock at the door. Then there was a second knock at the door. The two men parted and Q whimpered at the loss of contact. “Perhaps we could pick up this conversation when you get off duty?” offered Alec.

“That would please me greatly, Alec,” said Q. He cupped a hand to his face and snuck another quick kiss before stroking a thumb across his cheek. There was another knock. “Oh bloody hell…” muttered Q as he opened the door.

One of his Q Branch subordinates stood there with a clip-board in her hands. “Results from R&D testing on the new field weapon, sir,” she said as she handed him the board.

Q looked at Alec with a shy smile. “We’ll continue our conversation later, 006. Thank you for stopping by.”

Alec nodded, winked at the girl and was gone. Q couldn’t wait for work to be over.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Russian translations are loose and taken from Google translate. PLEASE correct me if I've goofed. I will fix immediately.  
> For those who don't speak Russian, here are the words I've used and the meanings that I've intended:
> 
> Cпасибо - Thank you  
> маленький мастер - little master  
> мой командир - my commander  
> изысканный - exquisite (refined/ elegant)  
> да - yes
> 
> Enjoy!

_Your place. I’ll be waiting. – AT_

Q looked at his mobile in confusion. Alec had not been gone thirty minutes before he’d gotten the text and two questions sprung to his mind: How did Alec have his private mobile number and how did the agent know where he lived?

Q shut his eyes and sighed when he realized who Alec had spoken to: Moneypenny. Meddling woman. Her favorite pastime was poking fun at the cold and aloof Quartermaster of MI6. She would probably never let him live this down. Q shook his head. He considered ruining her credit for a moment, but chose instead to delay her next paycheck by two weeks. It would serve as a warning shot over her bow.

The hours of Q’s day went by like mud. Every second longer he spent in Q Branch was a second that managed to annoy him. When he finally snapped at the meekest of his subordinates over something completely innocent, Q knew he had to cut his day short. “Apologies everyone,” he announced. “I’m clearly not myself. And therefore I’m sending myself home. You all have your tasks. Leave the reports and results on my desk. I’ll review them in the morning. Call Agent Tanner if there’s an emergency. Carry on.”

His home was in an unassuming building along an unassuming street and that’s how Q liked it. There was no flash about it, just a good old average London street. He unlocked his blue door and entered the foyer. His cat greeted him as always and he bent down to scratch between his ears. “Alright, Jonesy?” The ginger tabby meowed a greeting and scurried off to the kitchen in anticipation of dinner. Q hung up his coat and scarf, set down his satchel bag. He undid his knitted jumper, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. As he did, he called after him: “It’s too early for dinner, Jones. I’ll feed you in a bit, old man.”

“We could always call out for a curry,” said Alec. Q jumped a mile and, much to his embarrassment, squeaked.

“Jesus Christ on a bike, Alec!” scolded Q. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Since three hours ago,” said Alec. He held up a bottle. “You’re out of vodka.”

“I knew I should have implemented better security protocols in this place,” said Q. “I was just always afraid Jonesy would set something off accidentally.”

“He might,” said Alec as he rose from his chair in Q’s sitting room and crossed the space to wrap Q up in his arms. “And then you would have made it just that much more difficult for me to get in. It could have taken me a whole twenty more minutes than it did.” He smirked.

“Bloody mad Russian,” muttered Q as Alec pressed a kiss to his lips. It was difficult for Q to not let his body go completely limp as the kiss deepened and Alec held him tighter.

The kiss broke and Alec said: “You’re starting to sound like James, Q. Stop that.” And he dove in for another heart-stopping kiss. This one lingered and Q’s tongue played about around Alec’s in the most delicious way.

Q felt Jonesy against his leg and broke the kiss long enough to look down and say: “Traitor. You could have warned me about him, you know.” Alec trailed kisses down Q’s neck and the moan that came from Q was wanton. Strong hands pressed against Q’s arse and kneaded the muscle there. Q could feel Alec’s erection against his thigh and knew that his own would soon be making a strong appearance. When Alec’s mouth found that hollow of Q’s collarbone, his cock responded as expected. Q’s breath stuttered and he managed Alec’s name before kissing along the shell of his ear and licking at the opening.

Alec moaned in pleasure and contentment, tracing his tongue back up Q’s long neck to the pulse point just behind his ear. He nibbled at the lobe a moment before plunging his tongue inside Q’s ear causing a wave of heat to reverberate throughout Q’s body. “What the hell was that?” said Q.

“I believe it’s called a G-Spot,” said Alec. “I know of a few more. Want to try?”

‘Oh god yes,” breathed Q.

Alec pressed him up against the nearest wall and pinned his hands above his head with one of his own. Ducking down, Alec licked and sucked at Q’s neck and collarbone as his free hand unbuttoned the rest of Q’s shirt. A warm hand snaked inside against Q’s ribs and he shivered. Alec’s mouth found Q’s nipple and again the heat raged inside him. “Fuck,” said Q softly as the hot mouth worked and worried the sensitive flesh. The heat was suddenly replaced by a cool breeze as Alec pulled away and blew against the saliva. Q moaned and shivered again, gooseflesh spreading, and threw his head back against the wall.

Alec came up and nipped at his neck and led him up the stairs to the bedroom. Q kissed Alec again on the landing, carding his hands through his hair. Alec pulled back. “You’re not doing this for MI6?” Q shook his head. “You sure?” Q nodded, his eyes locked on Alec’s mouth. “Thank god.” Another languid kiss arrested further conversation as both men ran their hands wherever they could.

As soon as Q’s open hand brushed over Alec’s arousal, the agent whined with need and the sound shot straight to Q’s dick. “Son of a bitch,” cursed Q.

“God I love it when you get sweary,” said Alec around another kiss to Q’s collarbone. Q carded a hand through his hair, encouraging the action.

“Then fuck me, Alec,” said Q. “God damn it, fuck me.”

Alec let out an animalistic grunt against Q’s skin and squeezed his arse. “Yes, sir, quartermaster, sir.”

Alec backed into the bedroom door and pulled Q to him. One hand gripped Q’s jaw tight as they both paused and took in one another. Q’s eyes were heavy-lidded and drowsy with lust and he couldn’t seem to pull them away from Alec’s mouth which was red from Q’s biting kisses. “God you’re gorgeous,” murmured Alec.

“I want you, Alec,” replied Q.

Alec smirked. “You want me to what?”

Q smirked back. “To fuck me. Deep and hard.” Alec muttered a Russian curse, lost to the images his brain had conjured up at Q’s words. “Oh I like that,” said Q. “I want you to forget yourself so badly that you end up speaking Russian.” He unbuttoned Alec’s shirt, kissing the exposed skin as it presented itself. “And then I want you to not be able to speak at all.” He licked quickly at Alec’s Adam’s apple before continuing the trail of kisses down his chest.

Alec said something in Russian that Q knew to mean something about the “love of god”, but his linguistics training wasn’t that good. He made a mental note to update his training in Russian as soon as possible as he huffed a hot breath over Alec’s straining cock. Alec groaned above him and Q could barely stand his own trousers any longer. They had to come off. Both of them had to be naked. Now.

Q rose to his feet and whipped the tie over his head, throwing it down to the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jonesy take it and make off with it. He didn’t care. He stripped himself to the waist as Alec leaned back against the door of his bedroom and watched him. A smirk was playing about the agent’s face and Q just had to kiss it. Stalking up to him slowly he placed his mouth over Alec’s and as the man leaned forward into the kiss, Q pulled back and licked at his lips teasingly. Three torturous attempts were made before Q allowed his tongue to be captured by Alec’s mouth. The Russian sucked on it as though it were his prick all the while kneading Q’s arse and pressing in his hips with the same rhythm. Their cocks rubbed against one another over and over and Q was lost in seconds; his arms dropped to his sides and he just allowed Alec to _take_. He had never felt such desire in his life.

Alec broke the kiss with a wet pop and proceeded to worry at Q’s other nipple, repeating his performance and blowing cool air over the wet to excite the gooseflesh and get Q to make that exquisite noise again. As soon as he did, Alec’s hands were on Q’s belt and unfastening it as soon as he was able. Trousers, shoes, socks, and pants followed until Q stood naked and erect, panting with want. “Suck my cock, 006,” said Q and Alec’s breath hitched.

“Yes, sir,” said Alec and wrapped his hot mouth around Q’s arousal, swallowing him down half-way and pulling off slowly. Alec had just enough brain activity to register that the tip of his cock was as red as Q’s lips as he licked up the back side of Q’s head and across the slit, watching the play of emotion on Q’s face. He cursed in Russian again and sucked at Q’s balls, taking each one in his mouth in turn and humming along his scrotum. Q let out a moan of pleasure and an oath that made Alec grin.

Alec stroked Q’s cock, extending and contracting the foreskin over his ruby-red head in the most lascivious way. The tip was wet with precum and on every pull back, Alec sucked at the head, tasting his quartermaster teasingly before swallowing him down and establishing a rhythm.

Alec gripped at Q’s slender hips as Q attempted to thrust into his mouth, his body seeking release from the warm wet ministrations. Q found himself stroking Alec’s hair lovingly as he watched himself disappear inside him over and over. “Oh God, yes, Alec,” said Q. And from nowhere, he added: “I trust you. I trust you.”

Alec pulled off of Q slowly and stared at him a moment. “Cпасибо,“ was all he said before continuing to suck Q off.

Q’s breathing was coming in heavy and heated. He knew he was going to cum if this went on much longer. It had been a lifetime since anyone had been in his bed, and even then, the experience wasn’t great. This, however, held such great promise that Q didn’t want to lose control too soon. But, he thought, perhaps that should be Alec’s decision. After all, he was doing this for him. “When do you want me to cum, Alec? Do you want me to cum here? Because I’m almost ready to. Please Alec, tell me what you want.”

Alec released Q’s cock and stood. “Not yet, маленький мастер. I have plans for you.” He guided Q to the bed and bid him lay down. Alec shed the remainder of his clothing and took three objects out of his pockets: two condoms and a small bottle of lube. Rolling on one of the condoms, he lay on top of Q and between his legs, kissing his mouth passionately. “Am I a monster to you, мой командир?” he asked, worry clouding his features.

“No,” said Q without hesitation. “You are a man with difficult decisions to make. That’s all. You are not a monster.”

“And you trust me, изысканный?” he asked.

“Implicitly,” said Q, “and without hesitation.”

Alec kissed him again enjoying the feel of the smaller frame beneath him. He pressed the whole of himself along Q’s length and nibbled at his ear, sucking at the lobe, kissing at the pulse point, until he finally, slowly, achingly placed the tip of his tongue into Q’s ear. Q came unglued: arching his back and crying out as if in orgasm, his body rocked with the sensitivity of the touch. “Please, Alec… please, love… fuck!” cried Q.

“You wish to cum for me, да?” asked Alec.

“да,” echoed Q in his best attempt at pronunciation.

Alec grinned like a cat and kissed Q deeply. “Your accent needs work,” he said. “But I can teach you. First though…” And he reached over for the bottle. Spreading lube across the fingers of one hand he readied Q’s hole so slowly Q wanted to hit him.

“Get on with it!” he cried. Alec pulled his hair enough to tilt Q’s head back exposing his exquisite neck. He licked at it appreciatively murmuring, “Patience, my pet. You’ll get what you want soon enough. You said you trust me. Trust me now.”

By the time Alec had two fingers inside of Q, he was past the point of begging; Q was reduced to incoherent moans of want. Q’s legs were balanced on Alec’s strong shoulders and his hands clawed ineffectively at his neck and upper back. It also didn’t help Q’s frustrations that Alec was teasing his mouth with his tongue and more than once Q attempted to chase after the kiss only to have Alec take it away.

And then Alec found Q’s prostate.

Q’s back arched and he cried out as a wave of heat spread throughout his body. The second time Alec brushed it, he also managed to have that teasing tongue deep in Q’s ear. A white hot explosion of lust came from deep inside Q and he wriggled, whined, clawed, and thrust in his efforts to scratch an itch that was just out of his reach. He resorted to cursing which melted into moaning which soon became whimpering as Alec was relentless in his stimulation. Q began to cry from the physical and emotional overload and Alec didn’t notice until a salty tear dripped down the side of Q’s face toward his ear and touched Alec’s tongue.

Alec pulled away to see Q completely rent apart and emotionally wrecked. He kissed Q tenderly, pulling his fingers free, and cooing soothing Russian into his ear. Alec looked down. He hadn’t cum. He looked back at Q, puzzled. “You said not yet,” panted Q. “It took all I had not to.”

“Christ,” murmured Alec. He placed himself at Q’s entrance and slowly pushed in watching Q’s face carefully for any sign of pain or discomfort. There was none. His Quartermaster was gone. In his place was a gorgeous dying saint with alabaster skin and a mop of unruly black hair that shone in the light of the bedside lamp. His eyes had blown wide long ago and still held a deep shade of dusky lust. His lips were still as ruby red as the tip of his cock which strained with the rhythm of Q’s heartbeat between them. And it was his to do with as he pleased. Alec stared at him in wonder as he sank deeper and deeper into his warmth until he was inside him entire.

With another small Russian curse of wonder and awe, Alec began to build on his own orgasm, slowly pumping himself in and out in a solid rhythm at first. He braced Q’s knees up with his hands and both men watched in fascination as Alec disappeared into Q over and over. Alec spread his knees wider and changed his angle until Q arched his back once more and Alec knew he had struck that spot once again.

Through making every stroke count, Alec found Q’s prostate on almost every thrust, until, seeing Q could take it no longer, he brought Q’s right knee over his head and balanced it on his right shoulder, letting Q’s left leg drop to the mattress. He leaned in and placed his tongue to Q’s ear once more. Q reacted with violent passion.

With a collective shudder, they both pushed against each other, their rhythm becoming syncopated and then uniting again only to fall apart again as each man chased his orgasm. “Cum for me, Q,” said Alec as he licked Q’s ear relentlessly.

“Fuck! God damn… Alec… FUCK!” cried Q - and he let go.

Alec pulled his head away just in time to watch Q’s orgasm crest and overtake him. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Alec came instantly from the sight of it, spilling his seed deep inside Q with four mighty thrusts and calling out Q’s name as well as some well-chosen Russian curses.

Clean up could wait as they came down from their high in each other’s arms. Alec held Q to him while both men lay on their sides facing each other. Q’s cum was coating both of their chests and bellies, but neither man cared. All they needed was right here.

Q kissed Alec softly and said: “I think I may have needed that just as badly as you.”

“You may have,” agreed Alec with a wicked grin. “Moneypenny always said all you needed was a hell of an orgasm.” Q let out an annoyed growl and buried his face in Alec’s chest. Alec laughed. “Now all I need to do is fuck you on a regular basis and everyone gets to be happy.” He pulled Q’s head up to look into his eyes. “Is that alright with you, мой командир?”

“да,” replied Q, sleepily, “just so long as your AARs are in on time.” And he leaned into Alec’s chest and drifted off to sleep to the sound of Russian muttering and soft easy laughter.


End file.
